


Pearls

by j_gabrielle



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Angst, Barebacking, Biting, Coming Untouched, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Forced Feminization, M/M, Mpreg but this is only a fantasy, Nipples, Non Consensual, PWP, Rough Sex, Sexual Abuse, dark!fic, there is no plot here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They leave him there, the decidedly androgynous quality of his body highlighted by the soft glows of the dying candlelight. The boy knows what is coming. This isn’t the first time.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pearls

**Author's Note:**

> So... This happened. *scuffles feet*

He slips him some poppy wine in his dinner stew, watching as blue eyes begin to shutter and close. Neville smiles quietly to himself, watching as his grip grows slack and eventually his fingers letting the bowl slide, clattering to the ground. He shrugs off his coat, loosening the buttons of his shirt. Draining the last of his whiskey, Neville gets up to follow them.

They toss him onto the floor of what used to be the executive lounge of the hotel. It has long since been bare of all of its’ finer furnishing, but some threadbare carpets and pitiful couches still remain.

“Please…” Danny slurs, trying to push against the men holding him down and methodically stripping him of what ever little clothing he has on. He doesn’t fight them—much. They leave him there, the decidedly androgynous quality of his body highlighted by the soft glows of the dying candlelight. The boy knows what is coming. This isn’t the first time.

“Hush now, Danny boy.” Neville coos, brushing his blonde bangs away from his eyes. He knows from delicious experience that Danny won’t be fighting in awhile, but he makes quick work of tying his wrists behind him just because he likes the way they pull his shoulders back, pushing his chest out. “Just relax and let the wine work its’ magic.”

The boy sputters, flailing helplessly against Neville’s hold on the back of his neck. Bright eyes growing dazed and glassy as his eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings. He massages the short hairs of Danny’s nape, pulling him up to straddle his lap while he sits back into the ratty leather armchair. Danny moans, chanting what seems to be a strain of ‘No’s. Neville admires that in the kid; half-delirious from the drug and still trying to put up a fight.

He tells him as much, and laughs as the boy in his lap squirms against his bonds, making soft noises of protest. The silver light of the moon plays over the rise and falls of his torso, the old marks Neville left from before, the hand-shaped bruises on his hips still healing.

“So pretty…” Neville runs his fingers down the thin trail of hair that grows into a gentle tuft over his manhood.

Neville pushes his hips up, bouncing Danny in his lap, guiding his movements so that with every thrust Danny’s naked groin is rubbing up against the growing bulge in his pants. The boy lolls his head, mouth falling open slightly, gasping breathily.

The sensations are getting harder to bear. Neville pauses to watch Danny’s cock fill and begin to curve heavily upwards until it is resting snug on the V of his hips. Neville cups him, holding him in the palm of his hand. He grinds the heel of his hand into the base, pressing in painfully.

Danny’s body tenses almost immediately, arching taut. His dusky rose nipples tighten and pebble adorably, and Neville gives into the urge to suckle them, alternating between using his teeth, his tongue and rolling them between his calloused fingers.

“Please… Please…” Danny begs, mindlessly jutting out his chest, crying out when Neville bites down on the flesh of his breast, renewing the mark of his teeth like little roses around his aureole. Neville reckons that Danny would agree to anything he asked for now; reveal any secrets he has buried deep in the back of his mind, submitting himself if he could only get some relief. “Please…” He sobs.

Neville tracks the tears that leak out of the corner of those beautiful eyes. They remind him so much of his own wife’s, but the thought of his beloved Julia is not enough to make him feel guilty about wrecking this beautiful creature in his arms, neither is the reminder that the boy is barely legal. The fact remains that Danny’s defiance should not be such a turn-on, and yet it stokes a fire deep in him that he has never realised was burning.

“Oh, pretty boy.” He chuckles, pulling away to regard him. “What shall we do today?”

He runs his hands down Danny’s flanks, letting his nails leave stark red trails as they move downwards to rest on his shuddering hips. His cock is leaking a steady trail of pre-come, staining his pale skin and Neville’s pants. Full red lips part to show a hint of teeth, cornflower blue eyes a dark glint under hooded lids. Danny flushes wonderfully, blushing from his cheeks, down his neck and to his chest.

He could force Danny to the floor, could force his own cock down Danny’s throat, watching him gag as he tries to swallow around him. He would then draw out of the warmth of his mouth and come all over his face, painting his harlot lips a slick white, draping his lashes with his spend. Then again, it would be equally as satisfying to see the boy come undone with nothing more than three of his fingers in him, cleverly manipulating his prostate, or to push him over and lick into him until he has nothing left to give. Neville knows of that little spot just behind his ear that makes him ever more pliant and loose, knows that if he applies just the hint of his own teeth, Danny would cry out silently, coming in seemingly endless streams.

The captain lets the memories of their previous… encounters play out in the theatre of his mind, cataloguing all of the things he has learnt. So many favourite things to do with his pretty boy and yet so very little time.

Neville is determined to enjoy every single night between now and Philly.

He pulls the boy close, standing up to hoist him over his shoulders. Neville moves to the door, pushing it open with one hand. The guards stationed in the hallway all try hard not to stare, but Neville cannot fault them for sneaking glimpses at the angel in his arms.

He makes a show of grabbing the soft mounds of his ass, digging his fingers into them and flashing his guards a hint of the hidden pink hole, parades his prize. Danny mumbles something against the line of his spine as Neville carries him up the stairs and to his own rooms in the first floor ballroom.

“Make sure no one disturbs us.” He orders as he reaches his door, winking at the blushing Private.

Danny bounces when he is tossed onto the mattress they have set out under the dusty chandelier, the movement causing his legs to fall wider apart. He strains, struggling to release himself to no avail.

“Hold on baby.” Neville smiles as Danny whines unintelligibly. He goes over to his pack, fishing for a box and taking the necklace out. Triumphantly, he toes off his boots and socks. “Here. I found this, and I was going to give it to my Julia, but I think she wouldn’t mind it if you wore it first.” He whispers, pulling Danny up and slipping behind him to fasten it around his neck.

Neville hums softly, nuzzling against the side of his head, breathing in the scent of sweat and the road. Mentally, he reminds himself to wash Danny before he reeks even more.

Breaking away for a moment, he reaches into the knife he keeps under his pillow. Neville hears Danny whimper as he presses the blade to his skin. “Be still, baby boy. I don’t want to cut you.” He cuts away the leather ties around Danny’s wrist. “That’s good, that’s good.”

He rubs the blood back into his thin wrists, placing slender hands on his own thighs. Neville lets his hands snake around his waist, rubbing up against his lower abdomen and down the sides of his groin. The proximity of them to Danny’s crotch makes it jerk, the thin milky rivulets thickening, slicking.

The pearl necklace rests on his collarbones, his chest heaving as he breathes through the drugged-out haze. Neville likes it when Danny is unable to fight back, but likes it just as much when he bites and pushes back like a cornered animal.

He shifts their bodies, pulling Danny’s legs apart until they are hanging limply over his thighs. Danny grunts, protesting the strain. Neville scoots back to press himself back against the headboard and the boy plastered against his front, sneaking a hand between their bodies to unlace his trousers. Losing the last few buttons on his shirt, he takes them off, tossing it to the side of the bed.

Neville splays a hand over Danny’s navel, the differences of their skin colours evident even in the dim. “I always wondered if the blackout caused a change to our biology. Of course you wouldn’t have had learnt it, but it is common sense that men can’t get pregnant. I can’t help but wonder though…” He strokes the soft skin under his palm, grazing his lips on the gentle slope of Danny’s neck, “I wonder how you would look like pregnant. All swollen up with my baby in you, craving like a woman for all strange foodstuffs. You would look _exquisite_. Divine.” He muttered, tightening his embrace. “Can you see it Danny? Would you try to run then? Would you even attempt it when you can’t even walk properly?”

Danny merely thrashes his head against his shoulder, hands clenching and unclenching feebly on the cloth of his trousers. Neville reaches between their bodies to take out his own cock, sighing at the relief of being freed from his confines.

“I’m sorry Danny, but this will hurt.”

He guides himself to Danny’s hole, pressing up against it, nudging as if asking for entrance. Neville waits until he feels Danny opens up around his head, before thrusting in roughly. Lube is hard to find and even if he has some at hand, Neville doesn't think he wants to waste it on Danny.

He holds Danny to him, ignoring the cries of pain. Neville does not wait for Danny to adjust, pulling out and pushing back in until the boy is overwhelmingly tight around him.

Danny shakes, shivering and his toes crackle as they curl. He knows he cannot do much from this angle, but he rolls his hips all the same, thrusting shallowly. Danny’s hazy eyes are wide and frantically darting around. Neville takes the opportunity to pull his face closer, pressing their lips together in the mockery of a lover’s kiss. He does to Danny’s mouth what his cock is doing to his asshole; brutally sodomizing, unrelenting and uncaring for permission. Danny Matheson is his, and will remain so until the moment he delivers him to Monroe.

It is as if Danny was made for him, created solely so that his cock could have a perfect sheath that remained snug no matter how many times they fucked.

“Baby boy…” He groans, nibbling on an earlobe as his hands move to cradle his hips. His thrusts are erratic now, no longer holding any rhythm as he jackrabbits into Danny.

Neville can tell that he is about to come, biting down on the soft flesh as he flips them around, tilting slim waist upwards and draping himself over the boy’s back as he begins to power fuck into him. Danny is gasping, moaning, drooling into the covers when he suddenly arches and tightens around Neville. Crying out, he lifts one shaky hand to grab at Neville’s marking his hips anew, coming untouched.

Neville lets himself go, hands leaving Danny’s hips and tightening at the pearls adorning his neck. He lets himself indulge in the fantasy of a beautiful siren heavy with child, spread out on clean linens, covers barely hiding the erect cock jutting against the bump of his belly. Neville comes in Danny with the images of a smile and blue eyes looking up at him.

Danny sniffles quietly, hands clutching the covers like a child seeking comfort. Neville doesn’t pull out, choosing instead to press kisses into the line of Danny’s jaw.

“Please… Please…” He croaks, voice hoarse.

Neville smiles, stroking his hand through lanky, sweat damp hair. “My poor baby boy… I’m not even remotely done with you tonight.”

 

 

[end.]

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get the image of Neville holding Danny by the hair when he punches the lights out of him in Episode 1x05.
> 
> Okay? Okay.
> 
> Anyone want to talk? 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/miss_randomness)


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